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Habitual Obituaries

All Good Things Come to An End

Updated: 2018-03-05T15:26:00.402-08:00


Final Bows



As we approach the end of another year, let's remember some of the celebrities who took a final bow in 2010. May their star continue to shine in our lives.

Still Here



Today is the anniversary of my father's death. In many ways, I'm still that angry teenager he left behind, marking the day and counting the years just to keep him and my anger alive. But, after 24 years and with less tears in my adult eyes, I now know that this day never took with it my dad.

Liberace is turning in his grave!


Eww! Celebrities as dead cockroaches? See it to believe it!

Bloody Hot!


(image) It's hard not to fall for vampires any bloody ol' time , but this Fall, I'm happy that the sexy undead made blood the new black this season.

Top-Earning Dead Celebrities


(image) Just in case you're wondering, they take their money with them!

A Pair of Aces


(image) After her second stroke at 73, Angelina lost all feeling from the neck down. Her only daughter Julie, busy with work and her own family, could no longer care for her mom so she put her in a senior's home where her mother could receive proper care around the clock. For the most part, Angelina grew accustomed to her new home and didn't mind the revolving door of nurses and other caregivers attending to her every need. She had accepted her fate and knew that her days here on earth were numbered. Her family and friends visited her practically every day and her father and younger brother played cards in her room all day long.

Angelina could talk, but it was too tiring and her words came out slurred. The nurses did their best to understand her, but they always ended up doing something she didn't ask for or giving her something she didn't want. Her father and brother, on the other hand, always understood her, but advised her to talk less and to sleep more and then went back to playing their card games. When she woke up, they'd wave at her and immediately go back to playing their card games. She'd ask them why they didn't go home and they'd ignore her. They wouldn't eat, they didn't sleep and they never stopped playing those darn cards! Angelina didn't understand why they were always with her and eventually, she stopped talking to them. She'd glance over at them every now and then and fall heavier into sleep.

One night, she felt so rested that she could get up on her own. She looked over at her father and brother and they pulled out a chair for her. She walked over to them and decided to join them for a game of cards.

"It's about time," said her brother.

"To learn the rules of this game," added her father.

And, just then, she remembered that they were dead.

Lost and Obliged


(image) It was an ordinary night. As Charles left his house, he wondered if she would remember him this time. Who was he kidding? With his car keys jingling in his hand, he walked to the car, unlocked the door, sat in the driver's seat and paused for a few seconds before attempting to start the car. The same doubts were polluting his mind. Why did he bother visiting her every day? She seemed to be getting worse and he wasn't sure he could put up with one more violent outburst. Did anything he would do or say really matter at all anymore? He lifted his heavy hand and put the key into the ignition and started the car. He hoped it wouldn't start so he could use car trouble as an excuse for not visiting her. No such luck. The engine revved and he was obliged to drive 10 km to the hospital, two streets south of the highway and one traffic light east of the dead end street to visit the woman he married 43 years ago and the wife who no longer remembered him. He always timed the drive over even though he knew it took 20 minutes. Tonight, he arrived at the dead end street in 13 minutes and decided to turn on it. He parked the car, got out, looked in the direction of the hospital and starting walking the other way. He didn't know where he was going, nor did it matter. Nothing really mattered anymore. He was already lost without her.

RIP King of Pop


(image) Pop!
This is just another incarnation.
You'll always wear the crown
and the famous white glove
so you could hold the world in your hand
and change its colour.
Be as young
as you want to be
in your Neverland
cause this is Thriller,
Thriller Night...

RIP Everyone's Favourite Angel


(image) In my 1970's school yard, we used to act out "Charlie's Angels" during recess. Being a short-haired brunette, I was always, by default, chosen to be Kate Jackson's character, Sabrina Duncan. My best friend who had the long blond hair always got to play Farrah Fawcett's character, Jill Munroe. Each recess came and went and I never gave up hoping that one day I would be able to play Farrah Fawcett's character. It never happened and my resentment towards my best friend and towards the boy who played Bosley and who only chased after her secretly grew. I was barely seven years old and already learning that the world would treat me differently for not looking like the favourite Angel.

Thirty something years later, wiser and still, thankfully, a brunette, I still wonder what it would have been like to play Jill, if even for just a day.

Battling the Queen B


(image) I had to kill it! A queen bee flew into my car unnoticed when my doors were open and managed to stay hidden until it started buzzing around my dashboard like a queen bitch. My baby girl was in the back and my killer mother instincts took over. There was no time to think this over. The bee needed to make an exit fast or I was going to squish it to oblivion. I tried to save its life by rolling down all the windows and shooing it away, but it fought back with its menacing buzzing, crashing into my dashboard in retaliation. My last whack sent it flying into my lap and I when I jumped up, it landed near my left foot -- still fuckin' alive --, so I attempted to crush it with my heal as I kept one eye on it and the other on the road. And, today of all days, all of my traffic lights were green so it took me a good 5 minutes before I could pull over and kill this thing once and for all.

When I finally pulled over and got out of the car, it was still moving around despite having lost pieces of its busy body by my foot crushing! I grabbed a wad of tissues, picked it up, throw it to the ground and stepped on it for a good 20 seconds. And, it was STILL moving!!! It left me with no other choice. I had to resort to jumping on it, much to the amusement of my daughter and the shoppers exiting the store near where I parked.

Jumping on it finally did it in. And, there is no way in hell that the sucker will rest in peace. It'll probably come back and sting me in some other way.

The Grim Scensters


(image) They normally roam the streets on their own because it's better for business, but sometimes, you'll find them lined up with engines revving where traffic infractions, car collisions and untimely deaths occur on roads and then they'll race against each other to win the grim work. On a good day, they'll run out of gas driving back and forth from no parking zones to accident hell, but they'll rarely call it quits or go home to eat because they stay awake and alive feeding on the misfortune of others. Don't ever think that they're "really" helping you out. Don't even think you can hide from them. They watch you all the time. They'll find you anywhere and take you away as many times as is required and leave you with a hefty bill every time.

Rain or Shine Man


(image) Every day, rain or shine, he'd be perched at the same spot wearing the same smelly clothes and shoes that didn't have much longer to go until the sole peeled off completely. You could see through the bald patches of his beard that his skin was darkened by the dirt and sun. His unruly hair hadn't been washed for months and there was enough dirt under his fingertips to plant potatoes. If you happened to catch his eye, you'd see past his outer filth and heaven forbid be drawn to his beautiful inside. He'd always have a smile waiting for you and and would send you off with a blessing if you stopped to chat or dropped off money or food. He'd tell tall tales to anybody who'd listen and tell you the same stories again tomorrow. For the most part, he was just homeless to the majority of people who walked past him. He didn't care for them. He used to be just like them. Had it not been for the handful of people for whom he was the familiar, a nameless and ageless kindred spirit to greet on the way to work and back home, nobody would have ever known that he was long gone.

Happy Birthday and beyond...


(image) Today is my dad's birthday. He died 23 years ago and as I walked to his grave with flowers in my hands, I noticed birthday cards and pictures taped to other tombstones nearby feeling somewhat guilty for not marking this special occasion more. But, knowing my father, he'd probably haunt me in my dreams tonight if I left one of those annoying musical birthday cards behind. See, Dad? You still make me smile! Happy Birthday and beyond...

At a Loss for Words



Mrs. Adams husband died 12 years ago and every year on their wedding anniversary, her cousin Eva sends Mrs. Adams an anniversary card. Mrs. Adams has never thanked her cousin Eva for the cards.


To kill time before a job interview, Sydney walks into a Hallmark store and spots a new section of cards under the category of "Loss" for miscarriages. She reads it, buys one for her friend and never sends it.


When Darcy finds out that an old high school friend is battling breast cancer, she feels awkward calling her because they haven't spoken in years. She decides to write her a letter instead, but keeps forgetting to post it in the mail. Finally, after a week of carrying the unsent letter, she mails it and feels a sense of peace. A few days pass when Darcy receives a call from her friend's husband who informs her that her friend passed away a week ago.

Love Never Dies


(image) He's an Ex for too many reasons, but HE still haunts you. Your pillow isn't as wet anymore, but you still have the occasional sobby night when you still cry yourself to sleep asking, "Why"? Your heart still skips a beat when you think you've spotted HIM on the street. You pull out old photographs and get upset that you can't see HIS face behind the giant X you marked on it. You still read HIS horoscope and say a little prayer for HIS commitmentphobic heart. You still wear the jewellery HE bought you and can't seem to throw away the perfume bottle HE bought you for Valentine's Day four years ago because there's still a drop in it. You've kissed other men since him, but pretend it's always HIM. Your friends have banned any conversations about your failed relationship and you fooled your shrink into believing that you've moved on. You Google HIS name everyday and cry every time HE posts pictures of his new girlfriends on Facebook. When HE accepted your Friend invitation on Facebook, you believed with all your heart that you were back into HIS life for good. HE never responds to your postings, replies to your e-mails or answers your calls. Your nearly had a conniption when HE changed his cell number. But, you're still a Facebook friend. HE still, HE has, HIS face, it's still HIM... There's hope. It's fate. It's written in the book. Face it.

TGIF, even the 13th!



I hope you survived Friday the 13th unscathed, but if you didn't, take solace in the fact that this Friday the 13th is the last damned Friday of winter.

A Fairly Tooth Ending


(image) For 42 somewhat years, he used to boast about never taking care of them. He used to smoke, drink coffee and never brush away any of these nasty habits. He used to pop beer bottle caps with his lateral incisors and rip apart a good hard sandwich made with ciabetta bread to prove he could bite his own as the head of the table. He ignored pleas from the missus to go for routine check-ups insisting that if something wasn't broke, it shouldn't be fixed. Then, one day, as he bit into a tiny almond crisp biscuit of all things, one of his molars came loose and although he thought he could wash away the pain like a real man by rinsing his mouth out with a swig of whiskey, swig after swig and a 750 mL bottle of it later, he was stupidly drunk enough to pull out his tooth and collapse on the kitchen floor. The missus decided to leave him there with a bloody mouth and the droolies all night as punishment for not listening to her after all these years of urging him to visit a dentist. She was his wife, not the tooth fairy, and in the morning she'd take his wallet and keys to the car and let him suffer a little bit more.

A Killer Premium


(image) Today, I was just about to avoid that mid-afternoon call when I decided against my better judgment to answer the phone on the last ring. A telemarketer -- what a surprise! I had to endure the usual mispronunciation of my last name and after three attempts of correcting the verbal butchering of my name, I gave up and before I knew it, I was listening to the sales script.

The special offer this time was coming from an insurance company which was offering women coverage for cancer.

The sales script went something like this: Was I between the ages of 18 and 55 and did I know that the risks of being diagnosed with not only breast cancer, but cancer of the fallopian tubes, cervic cancer, skin cancer, lymphoma, cancer of the... [suddenly depressed, I began tuning out].

The tone in the telemarketers voice shifted from serious to hopeful when she went on to describe the exclusive offer they were pleased to offer me today and today only. I would receive x dollars for medication, x dollars for a leave of absence from work, x dollars for hospital coverage, x dollars for my family members should I die and did I know that...

Two and a half minutes into the one-way conversation and I was already six feet under. I had to interrupt the doomsday telemarketer, but was nice enough to be polite about it. I declined giving the reason of having life insurance and extended medical care benefits.

She was ready for my objections and desperate to sign the deal fired back with, "If you stay healthy and don't get cancer, we refund all of your money. Do your other insurance companies offer this?"

Hey lady, let me first figure out how not to get cancer and I'll call you back, okay?

A Frighteningly Funny Vision in the Night


It was a whistling-windy, wintry Saturday night
with sheets of ice on the roads and not a creature in sight.
Driving along with nothing but miles of black ahead
suddenly, I saw the light and knew I could be dead.
Enter enter
gales of laughter
à la Vincent Price ever after.

A Family Reunion


(image) Maria Christina never fully recovered from her daughter's sudden death six years ago. She was just 42 when she collapsed on her bathroom floor. She had just moved into a new house with her husband and the daughter they waited so long to arrive. If only the adoption had happened sooner. Baby Jennifer would have known what it was really like to have a mother.

Barely two years after that tragedy, Maria Christina's husband Edward who had been healthy as a horse for most of his 76 years passed away peacefully in their empty nest.

Soon after they buried her beloved, all of Maria Christina's days turned into nights and as the days passed, the darkness thickened the minute hand of time, drawing out the hours of her painful losses in utter and unshakeable misery. Two more years of living in complete blackness didn't bring them back. It took precious more from Christina.

This time, it was her son Joseph. He went into the hospital with a high fever and never came out. His heart stopped, just like that. She knew it was bad news when her phone rang at 2:20 AM. She was already up.

After they buried her son, she starting checking out herself. She barely got out of bed and hardly ever went out. If the phone rang, she didn't answer it. If the doorbell rang, she hid. As the dishes and bills and laundry piled up, Maria Christina only cared about bringing fresh flowers to the graves of her loved ones. On her next visit to the cemetery, she planned to check herself into the hospital and wait for the only cure that could save her.

Two weeks later, she paid for a private room in the hospital and for the first time in years, she slept peacefully through the night.

Maria Christina was diagnosed with cancer and refused treatment. A year later, she was finally reunited with her family.

The best is yet to come...


(image) Today, I spotted this old proverb written on the page of a book and it turned my day around.
Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, she became a butterfly.

Always remember that the best is yet to come...

Highway to Hell


(image) Tonight, as I was stopped at a red light, eager to get home safely through the winter storm, a radio commercial came on reminding listeners of winter safety driving tips. For thirty seconds, I half listened to what it was saying knowing very well how I should drive during icy conditions, but I realized only at the very end of the commercial that I should have really listened to it. The commercial was brought to us by a funeral home and as the light turned green and I had to accelerate, the sudden realization that I was in a death trap couldn't have hit me harder.

The Living Dead



They're trapped and they like it
going back for the bait
over and over again
cause they just don't get it.
They don't live.
And, they kill too.
Stabbing others right in the back.
You might see them on the
subway during rush hour
tripping over their rat tails
or giving you a blank stare.
If you say something to them
and they don't respond
or make a move,
don't be scared.
Just check their Blackberry for a pulse.
They are the Living Dead.

Bad Things Come In...


(image) Growing up, my mother always used to tell us that bad things came in threes and I would hazard to say that for the most part, she was right. She had this old-country wisdom in her eyes when she forewarned of more troubles after a sudden misfortune, accident or loss.

Even today, I shudder at the thought of someone close dying, knowing two more deaths are imminent.

In the last three months, three of my dear friends lost their fathers; two were sure to happen and the one was unexpected.

I comfort all of them, well versed in this same tragic loss and then by will and not force, I call my mother and tell her that she's always right.

RIP 2008



It started off as all others do with strong resolve
to quit, stop, change, commit, do, do and do.
In the quiet reflection of its onset
a fiesty spirit brewed,
stirring all the right emotions
to bring newness within reach.
But, before transformation could be unleashed,
the winds of storm,
a familiar battle,
knocked you back to the familiar and safe.
Days of sameness turned into
weeks of weakness and before you knew it
the seasons flipped in and out
of the rerun channels
that you and only you